


The Ghost of Christmas Past

by BirdBlue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, My First Drarry, Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Slash, Regret, Some humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdBlue/pseuds/BirdBlue
Summary: "Harry was tired. Exhausted, in fact. He was tired of how monotonous and dull his adult life had become. He was tired of coming back to Grimmauld Place and finding it empty, save for one old house elf. And he was tired of barely having enough time to do anything else but work."Basically, your typical, depressed Harry, whose life is made better by Draco, Drarry, Pre-Slash Fic.





	The Ghost of Christmas Past

Awaken.

Shower.

Eat.

Work.

Eat.

Sleep.

Repeat.

Harry was tired. Exhausted, in fact. He was tired of how monotonous and dull his adult life had become. He was tired of coming back to Grimmauld Place and finding it empty, save for one old house elf. And he was tired of barely having enough time to do anything else but work.

Even the occasional visit of a member of Dumbledore's Army, the Order of the Phoenix, or Ron and Hermione with their newborn baby only lifted his spirits for a moment. They were all so busy, too, their lives were moving forward, and they seemed so happy. Somehow, Harry was not moving at all. He was stuck in the old remnants of his past, too afraid to tell others, in case he trapped them there, too.

He felt utterly alone.

It had been almost three years since he had split up with Ginny. She'd said the same things he felt now. That he needed to move on, that there was no use dwelling on the past, that he was turning into someone she couldn't love anymore. It had surprised Harry to find out how little that had hurt him. His own internal pain dulled the external. It had been winter when it had happened. He had stopped coming to the Weasley's Christmas parties after that. And then to Easter and so on. Ron had tried to talk to him, but between Hermione's pregnancy and comforting Ginny, he'd given up.

They all had, or so it felt.

~°~

A white Christmas was promised by the thick mantle of snow that arrived mid December. London's streets were full of thick brown sludge, and misty gasps caught on the spider's web of cold air. Harry trudged back from work with his hands in the pockets of his long, dark coat. He had decided to walk back instead of Apparating today, and was starting to regret it. Groups of busy shoppers jostled him through the streets, and tiny children deafened him with excited screams.

He was three streets away from Grimmauld Place when he heard a shout. The senses he'd acquired during his youth and time as an Auror forced him not to ignore it. Harry reached his hand up to slide along the side of his coat, feeling the holly wand almost quiver in excitement at his touch, before he crept closer.

"Get off me, you imbeciles!" came a second shout, and Harry's brow furrowed. Why in the name of Merlin's left buttock did that sound so familiar? Jeers awoke him from his confusion and he poked his head around the corner to gauge the situation. One cloaked figure attacked by three men… with wands. Harry grinned. They were wizards, then. Unarmed combat would have been tricky with three, by the looks of it, all too physically capable men, but defeating multiple dueling partners was his forte. Quickly, he took out his wand and rounded the corner.

"Please put your arms where I can see them, drop your wands. I don't know what your quarrel is, but I'd rather it didn't end violently," Harry stated, using his stern, authoritarian Auror voice. He barely flinched as a he deflected the stinging hex zooming towards him.

"Sorry to tell you, but it looks like it already has," snarled an assailant, and Harry's eyes darted to the cloaked figure who was slightly slumped against the wall. Quick as a flash, he flicked his wand at the speaker, disarming him and, again, deflecting the jinxes and curses his companions shot at him.

Eventually, they glanced at each other, one taking out something from his cloak and throwing it onto the ground. There was a moment to breathe, then blackness obscured Harry's vision, and he heard muffled curses and the sound of running feet. He groaned. Instant darkness powder was a tricky one. He felt the instinctive urge to run after the thugs, but then his mind brought him back to priority number one.

Harry groped along the wall, until he found an arm and tugged. He wasn't surprised, when that was met with some resistance, and he whispered soothingly, "It's okay, they're gone. I just need to get you out of this alley."

For a moment, the victim still silently resisted, then they stood up and followed Harry, as his graceless stumbling led them out of the darkness. Harry turned around to smile kindly at the figure and froze.

The man's hood had fallen back and he now saw his face. Straight, silvery-blond hair was tied back in a short ponytail. The light of the setting sun shone on it and the white, peaked face, making them glow with an ethereal light. Those light grey eyes were blown wide, mirroring his own shock. There was a long pause, in which they just stared at each other.

"Potter," Draco Malfoy gasped eventually, taking a step back and wincing as he put his weight on an obviously injured foot.

"Easy," Harry warned, reaching out to support him. "You're hurt," was all he could think to say as he wrapped an arm around Draco's midsection.

"Really, Potter? I hadn't noticed," the man snapped sarcastically, before stopping himself. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, you did just save me. I— Sorry."

Harry was even more surprised by that. He'd expected the sarcasm, just not the apology. "S'fine," he muttered, awkwardly, feigning a chuckle. "Old habits die hard, I guess." It only struck him the minute he said it how insensitive that was. "Oh Merlin, I don't mean—"

Draco cut him off, quickly. "It's fine, Potter." They looked at each other nervously for almost three minutes, then started speaking at once.

"I should—"

"Is there any—"

They stared at each other again, then both said, "Okay, you go first," and continued staring at each other, until Harry sighed. "I really hope we're not trapped like this forever."

He was surprised to hear the faint burble of laughter that sprung from Draco's lips, and Draco almost looked as shocked as he was. "Right…" Harry continued, glancing at his old enemy. "I was going to ask if there's anywhere close to here that I could take you. I don't know where you're staying at the moment, but if it's close I can take you there."

"I'll just Apparate, but thank you," Draco replied stiffly, trying to walk again and having to support himself on the opposite wall.

"On that leg? I don't think so," Harry replied sternly. "Listen, if you don't have anywhere to stay close to here, then— Then I suppose you can come back to my place and I'll take a look at that for you." He could see the man begin to object, and he cut him off. "Malf—Draco. If you move around too much on that it'll get hurt. I mean, more than it already is. I only live a few streets away, and I have more than enough medical supplies and, by now, experience. Could you please just put away your dumb pride for a minute and let me help you?"

Draco glared at him for a minute, before his expression softened, and his body almost drooped. He nodded curtly. "Very well, Potter."

Harry grabbed him under the arms again, and together they walked towards his house in tense silence. It was only when they reached Grimmauld Place that Draco stopped.

"You mean you really live in the old Black Family Home, Potter?" he asked, stunned. "I always thought that was just some rumour, not that Black actually gave it to you." He smiled, saying, "Not that I'm unhappy about it. It makes sense that he'd give it to you."

Harry grinned back at him. "I hope you're not going to try and steal my house, Malfoy." They watched as Number 12 Grimmauld Place revealed itself, before moving towards the door. "Have you ever even been here?" he asked curiously. He knew Draco was now the closest male heir to the family, but he wasn't sure whether, with being heir to the Malfoy fortune, he'd ever really had much to do with his other relatives.

"Once, when I was about four," Draco told him. "I remember that this place absolutely terrified me."

Harry chuckled, imagining a toddler looking at the beheaded house elves and dusty heirlooms. "Yeah, can't say I blame you. You'll be happy to know that I've been forced to redecorate." Draco raised an eyebrow at him and he conceded. "Yeah, I know, 'Really, Potter? I'd never have guessed.' That about right?"

Draco thought for a moment.

"I was going to add something about how I expect your decorating skills will make me just as terrified, but I suppose that should do."

They grinned at each other and Harry coughed.

"Right… Yeah, the keys." He fumbled in his robes, slipping his hand into the mokeskin pouch that hung around his neck and drawing out a set of keys. He unlocked the door and was greeted by an eager Kreacher, who upon spotting Draco sunk into the lowest bow Harry and seen him make in a decade.

"Master Malfoy, it is truly an honour," the old elf intoned. "Having you in the home of your forefathers once more, I cannot express—"

Harry sighed and cut him off, quickly, seeing Draco look more and more embarrassed by the second. "That's nice, Kreacher. Could you get me the medikit, please?"

The house elf beamed at them both. "Of course, masters! I am thrilled to serve you both!"

"I've tried to tell him, that he's free and I can pay him, if he wants. But last time he got so offended, that he hid away in the attic for a week and wouldn't eat," Harry told Draco, as he guided him into the living room and helped him sit down on the old, but comfortable sofa. He gestured around the room. "There, what do you think about my of my decorating skills?"

Draco looked around the room. It was decked out in comfortable furniture, slightly mismatched, but nonetheless pleasant to look at. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace in front of him, and behind, an entire wall was taken up by the large bookcase boasting all manner of information about defensive magic, curses, magical creatures and an extensive array of literature. Autumn colours seemed to dominate the room, from reds, oranges and yellows, to chestnut and oak browns. Muggle posters and paintings were hung on the walls, along with a few magical companions, such as a Weird Sister's poster.

"Very Gryffindor," Draco remarked. "And I'm pretty sure my ancestors would excommunicate me for even being near some of those posters." He paused and smiled at his host. "Surprisingly, it isn't awful."

"Not awful." Harry laughed. "Maybe I should get a 'Approved by Draco Malfoy' sign. Make me seem more cultured."

Draco shook his head, grinning. "I'm not sure how popular that would make you, Potter. Besides, I think you're quite a charming barbarian."

He directed his gaze to a few cards on the mantelpiece, spotting a crimson sweater with the letter 'H' emblazoned on it in gold. "From the Weasleys, I presume. I remember you used to all wear those ridiculous jumpers."

Harry looked awkwardly at the cards, running his hand through his naturally messy hair. "Yeah. They've invited me to their Christmas dinner."

Draco cocked an eyebrow at him, curiously. "I'm surprised you're not already there. You used to spent most of your holidays at their house, didn't you?"

Harry sighed and didn't speak for a moment, before answering. "Yes, well, I've been pretty busy with work and everything. I haven't really been able to go in, uh, years. I don't even have presents…" He trailed off, and understanding flickered in Draco's grey eyes.

Draco smiled at Harry. "Well, as a matter of fact, I intend to do some Christmas shopping tomorrow. I still need to get something for Blaise and Pansy. They're having a baby, you know," he began carefully. "Maybe you'd like to join me?" Harry still looked doubtful and Draco sighed. "Harry… They're your friends. They'll want you there. I've tried shutting myself off from everyone. It doesn't work. Humans are, unfortunately, a social breed."

The use of his name seemed to touch something in the Auror. "Okay. Yeah. Yeah, that could be fun, but I need to get a lot, so it may take a while. Just so you know."

Draco leaned back on the sofa with a smirk. "Oh, Harry… As a spoiled pureblood heir, I can safely say that I know how to organise a shopping spree."

~°~

The rest of the evening seemed to fly by. It was strange how easy it was to talk to his old nemesis, and how happy he felt around him. Once he had seen to Draco's wounds, Harry offered him a place to stay for the night and showed him to the guest room, which had once belonged to Regulus Black. Harry left him alone so he could rest, and stayed up for a while longer, reading and finishing some case reports for the ministry. When he passed the door that lead to where Draco was sleeping on his way to his own room, he heard quiet sobs issuing from a crack left between door and doorframe. He bit his lip, about to move on, before he thought better of it, pushing open the door and entering the dark room.

With the dim moonlight shining in through the window, he could see the other man curled up and quaking with stifled sobs. Harry moved carefully across the room and rested a hand on one shaking shoulder. "Draco?" His tone of voice was half questioning, half pitying and the boy jumped at his touch, sitting up and jerking off his hand accidentally.

Draco's eyes were red-rimmed and watery, and they widened with shock at Harry's presence. "S-sorry. I was just—" He cut himself off and hiccuped. "I was just thinking about all the things I did to you when we were in Hogwarts, and you're being so nice and you helped me and my mother during our trial and I've never thanked you, or apologized, I—" The words spurted from his lips in a tangled mess, and were cut short when Harry bent down to hold him.

"That's right. When we were in Hogwarts. We were both children, who didn't know better, and it wasn't like I was very nice to you, either," said Harry, his hands finding the silky blonde hair and stroking it soothingly. "I know you're sorry, and if you don't remember, you did thank me after that trial and I know it was only in passing, but I've long since forgiven everything that happened when we were younger. Draco, none of that matters anymore. I like the person you are now. Merlin, I've never been as happy, as I was today, in years."

Draco clutched at him desperately and his shuddering body slowly calmed, breath after shaking breath. He relaxed in Harry's arms, until finally he was still. "Thank you, Po—Harry."

Releasing him, Harry stood up and grinned. "Thank you, too, Draco. Now shut up and get some sleep, you annoying Jarvey." As he turned back to the door, Harry heard an indignant huff from behind him.

"Potter. Did you just call me a talking ferret?!"

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a competition with a word limit of 3000 words and I can't be bothered to edit it, hence the length. I may post another chapter, if you readers like it.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are, as always, welcome! Or pop your opinions in a sealed bottle and throw it in the ocean. It'll get to me somehow!


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